The Master Key to a Better Posture Is Not TrainingRemoving the imaginary stone on your shoulders

Wherever I went, it was always with me. I could neither see it nor touch and yet my whole presence was subject to it. I wasn’t free. I had a master, an oppressor.

At first, I tried to live with it.

“At least, others can’t see it. That’s good enough,” I thought.

But as time passed, people started asking questions.

“What’s that thing on your back, boy,” said a guy eating potato chips.

‘’Oh, no! They can see it!? How is it possible,” I asked myself and started running away from the interrogators.

I wanted to get as far away as possible. I wanted to find a hideout protecting me from the questions. I wanted to be free from my intrusive companion and the demanding crowd. But most of all, I wanted to kill the thing on my back.

I ran for hours, days, even years until I finally reached a deserted area where I was alone with the atmosphere. There was nothing there. No looks from strangers, no car sounds, no beeping cell phones, no wi-fi…The realm was seemingly empty.

I sat on the ground and right when I was about to relax I heard a voice say:

“Bro, I am still here. Thanks for the ride. I enjoyed the landscape very much.”

I stood up and looked around.

“How is it possible? I escaped…or so I thought. Where is this coming from? Where’s the source? Where’s the sniper? How can it see me?”

Before I knew it, the sun started fading, and I had to go back home. I had to return to the people and answer their questions. I didn’t want to, but I wasn’t free enough to see another option.

While I was passing by the buildings, carrying a heavy burden on my shoulders, I felt like every window was asking me – “What’s that thing on your back?”

There was something really strange about that question. Actually, it wasn’t really a question. It was a statement. In all truth, they knew the answer better than me, but they were still asking in order to feed off my pain and weakness.

Finally, I reached the elevator. “At last, some piece,” I thought. But, no. The elevator stopped a few seconds later. Mr. Money entered. He was going up just like me. He gave me the I-am-so-much-more-than-you look and started talking:

“How are you, little brah?”

“Fine,” I said.

Then, the elevator opened, and he got out. He stopped and said, “What’s that thing on your back, little brah?’’ right when the doors were closing. I had no time to react.

A moment later, I was home. “At last, some piece,” I thought.

I made myself something to eat and went to the balcony. This time I wanted to be the guy with the sniper rifle. I wanted to be the killer destroying others. I wanted to be the hunter. I wanted to be the predator. I wanted to the be the one asking questions. I wanted to the executor.

It didn’t work.

I analyzed intensely the people passing by, but I couldn’t see anything on their backs. They looked so happy, so free. Suddenly, they all began turning away and pointing at me. The sniper boy became the victim. The strangers on the street got out their sniper rifles, and red dots covered my chest in an instant. “What’s that thing on your back,” asked the bullets.

I immediately went inside, closed all windows, turned off the lights and hid in a corner.

“I am still here. Thanks for closing the windows. It was cold outside,” said the voice.

“How can I escape? There’s no place to hide. That stealthy daemon is always with me,” I asked those who were able to hear.

Then I remembered what the wise men say – ‘’Whenever you are tortured by intrusive OCD thoughts, just kill your brain with fatigue. Get so tired that the OCD leaves you like a worker leaves a bankrupt company. Take its oxygen out. Suffocate it’’.

“I’m in,” I said and started doing push-ups.

I don’t have them on video, but something tells me they looked like bananas from the side. It didn’t matter. They were not supposed to build my chest! They had to fatigue me and save me from myself!

That evening I did more push-ups than I had done in the last year. At the end, my shoulders were shut down. I felt like there were rivers of pain in my muscles. I sat on the couch as if I had just conquered the world.

“I am still here,” said the voice. “Banana form by the way…”

That remark catapulted me into doing squats. The goal was to kill my lower body too.

After 20 minutes of squatting on and off, my legs starting burning. I had to lay down. Finally, I was able to fall asleep. The plan worked…. until I started dreaming.

The next day I couldn’t recall much of my dreams. I only remembered that in one of them a voice had said – “I am still here.’’

“This is it. I will kill you. I will make my back so strong that your only option will be death, you little piece of daemon trash,’’ I said.

The next few weeks were hell for my back. I did more pull-ups and posture corrective exercises than the humanoids in the neighborhood had done in their entire lives. I wasn’t afraid to overtrain. If anything, I loved the pain. Little by little, the fatigue accumulated to the point where I almost passed out after a set of rear delt flies done on the floor.

Once I got to my senses, the voice said: “I am still here.’’

‘’This is not enough. I have to go all in,” I said to myself.

Eventually, I started climbing another mountain – the deadlift. I thought that she will be my savior. I thought that the heavy barbell will finally headshot the daemon on my back and mute my interrogators.

I decided to commit to deadlift (and squat) excellence.

I got incredibly strong. Compared to my previous insect-like state I had turned into an iron house. My small success made me believe that I was ready to pass through the street with my head up. I thought I had earned it. I thought I had murdered the thing on my back. I thought I was free.

“My deadlift is over 2BW. Let’s do this,” I said to myself.

The first few steps felt fine and promising. The deadlift had taught me that a good posture is mostly dependent on the upper portion of your spinal erectors. You can do all the rear delt flies and face pulls in the world, but they are of little value when you cannot control you upper back directly and push your chest out.

I began to feel free for the first time in a long time. But in the middle of the street something changed. People started opening the windows again. They were smiling because they were still able to see the thing on my back.

“The daemon is still there,” I said to myself and started looking down out of shame.

My enemies were happy.

I hid again even though I had comprehended the pointlessness of this act.

I spent many years in a similar state. I was somewhat strong but weak. The thing on my back was not talking to me every day, but I knew it was there. I knew I hadn’t killed it. I knew it was still stealing my oxygen.

“How do I break free,’’ I asked myself.

Little did I know that the only way to fix my problem was to initiate an ego-seppuku and cut the supply of nutrients going to the thing on my back.

I had to go back to the basics and resurrect again.

I had to finish the book and understand that maybe I was worth something.

I had to pass through eight years of turbulence to realize that by glorifying other people’s perspective you increase their stocks and decrease yours. You let strangers into your head, your control room.

And why do we do that? Because we are convinced that protecting the ego 24/7 is really important. Some people do it by projecting a fake steroid based overconfidence whereas others create a shelf to hide. Sooner or later, those methods fail because they are both ego based. When you fight ego with ego the only thing you get is more ego. You need a real strategy. Fire can end fire only in the right context.

Once I understood this simple fact, I was able to pass through the street with my head up. People were still opening their windows and looking at me, but the grimaces were not as scary as before. My interrogators were sensing the bleeding wound from far away. My blood was pushing them back into their own emotional massacre.

This is when I finally got it, and my posture fixed itself.

However, the thing on my back is still there. I know because I can hear the heartbeat of my ego. I would be a liar if I tell that it’s dead. It’s not. It never dies while we’re here. It simply gets quieter.

Good post as usual. Hope the book sells good, this is the single most simple and at the same time the most complicated stuff i’ve read for a long time! Very eye opening like your articles are…if you can read between the lines sometimes 😉

You ever see that dead animal on the street? Usually it’s the slowest or weakest, and its body just lay decaying there. That’s you, but your physical body is not dead, but your ego, and your ego is your lifting career.

You can silence it all you want, but you’re still just decaying, you made the wrong decision and now you pay the ultimate price, this is what happens when you value fear and physical health more than mental and spiritual health.

I believe its a great article, in the life, you should train your mind (a.k.a spirit maybe) correctly for be stronger every day as the same way that you train our body.

If we could feel the garbage stuff relative to the gyms ´enviorment: products, training routines, magazines, false sterotypes, stereoids, etc; could you just imagine what a bunch of garbage are attacking our minds, brains, spirits in this precise moment and maybe, we dont even realize is happening?,
We just could be living in a false interior world or maybe dont, thats one example: In past months I was living in the false world´gym (useless routines , protein powder, dirty bulking, etc) , like the 80% of normal people do it every day, and guess what?? I didnt felt bad for that. I spent like 8 year of bad diets and training routines hoping to look great body shape but always was a fat bulking guy.

when I discovered this page, I changed it all, 180 degrees, but it was not easy, I had to destroy a lot of gym´ myths, false beliefs, etc. but it was the best choice. Now… could you close your eyes and feel how another garbage stuff (not gym topics) that exist in our mind in this moment?? or maybe, we are still living in the the flock …

I purchased your ebook, & am halfway through it. Next time charge more, what’s in there is worth WAY MORE than what I paid for. Keep up the excellent work, I love the REAL message you’re actually trying to convey.

I love your book. It’s a fantastic philosophical exploration of so many dynamic topics. I can’t say that I envy the mind of individuals who inhabit dark places, seemingly aware of the human condition, but I do appreciate your insight.

How do you feel about pornograhpy and masturbation?Have you ever heard about nofap and what do you think about it?And im not thinking in a way that it “increases testosterone” bullcr*p,but in your mental-emotional state and how it effects it.I find it whenever i pleasure myself more then 1 time a week and on top of that with assistance of porn my social skills/confidence drops significantly.But its weird the more you are aware of your primitive desire and more you control it at the same time you become more animalistic because of build up of sexual energy.Either way i find it much better to have it then not to i just feel more grounded and stable+its know that porn started with jewish movement of cultural marxism and is part of that society/moral destruction agenda.

The only thing I could add is that the main problem with porn is not that you are looking at sex. It’s the perversions it creates. It alters your perception and inserts all kinds of sexual thoughts in your head that you wouldn’t otherwise have. It’s especially true for children. You can hear them talk on the bus about shemales and strap-ons.

The more opened-ended articles you post are important, especially for new lifters. So many guys think they’re in the gym to lift weights, but they’re actually interacting with the conflict of who they are, who they want to be, and the degree of willingness they have to achieve that idea. That willingness is the battle ground of our egos. Anyway, training tips are great, but I think the philosophical articles are the more challenging reads.

You know what? I think i enjoy my split personality, that overweighted version of myself shaped in a ugly gigantic size of a stone. I actually want more of it,Winny. You said that you have to give your nasty pdf brand new ,if i promise that i won t share that to anybody. You know, brainwash and stuff. Be shy this time.

I love learning from you, and I was kinda upset when I finished reading your book. I wish it was longer, but I realize that’s just my hate for this global culture talking.
I mean my hate just wanted to keep reading more, because sometimes it feels like there’s not much to do. But there is, I know it.
One day the oppression will die.

And I agree with the guy that said to write more. I’d buy your book even if it was $50.

Very thought provoking and courageous on your part to open yourself up to the world. Fuck the scornful naysayers and haters who view this as a defect or weakness on your part. They are bereft of compassion. I wish you well. Peace

I liked your articles when they were non fictional. Just lift, bro, dont’t try to make a literature of it, please. When you are “to the point” you are good, but when you try to do a stories of it… well… Maybe it just me, and my philology studies.

I bought haters synthesis a few months ago and I loved it. I’ve just bought your latest book and I can’t wait to read it. Your blog is one of the best there is on the whole lifting game. Why? because you don’t hard sell people, you don’t talk bullshit, you don’t market and monetize. You talk reality. Your style of writing really appeals to me – its utterly compelling and thought provoking.
Thank you for everything.
Respect.
Seamus.